Silent Lullabies
by GodSaveTheQueen22
Summary: Series of one shots. Romanogers kid. Rated T to be safe.
1. Bayu Bayushki Bayu

**One-shot idea I've had in my head since that Black Panther post-credits scene and Infinity War which seemed to match up well and flow flawlessly. Love this idea, hope you guys do too..**

* * *

 **Sometime in 2018**

It was dawn. He could tell by the golden glow that landed and brightened up most of the outside. He had awoken surrounded, but regretted the moment the children ran away. Although beautiful, the sun's rays left him blind, leaving him staggering outside like a caveman. Eventually, he noticed the young woman staring at him, waiting. He began heading for her, the children running away once again, some in English, some in a dialect he couldn't understand.

 **"** Good morning, Sergeant Barnes." The dame called out. Bucky, dumbfounded by all the new and mysterious sights and people-he had thought this place Cap spoke of would be desolate, responded quickly, not wanting the woman to get the wrong idea.

"Bucky." He glanced around once more.

Desolate?

This seemed a village.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good," he hoped to get his arm back. He missed the feeling of two arms at his side, and it felt strange having only one arm to grab things.

"Come. There's much more for you to learn." She started walking away, before she turned back, distraught. "Did the boy awaken? We mustn't start without him."

"What boy?" She had Barnes confused now.

"The heir of your friends?" When she realized that Bucky had no idea what she was speaking about, she ran back, heading to the same hut Bucky came out of. He was sure no child had been there with him, although he was a bit occupied trying to figure out what was happening with all the other children who had woken him up. Shuri came back outside with a little boy, couldn't be any older than four years old, wrapped around her neck and waist. He was evidently very tired still with his hair in a rut and eyes that he could barely hold open. His head wobbled with each step she took, falling back into her shoulder a couple times more than once.

"Let's go," she said as she approached Barnes, leading him to the field. Bucky couldn't help but stare at the kid who seemed very comfortable in Shuri's arms, too comfortable for it to be the first time.

"Who is-" Shuri smiled at the question and before Bucky could finish it, she answered.

"As I said previously, a friends' heir. More T'Challa's than mine, but a friend all the same. Mutual, actually." That made Bucky all the more confused.

"But the-" He went silent, pointing to his hair. "I thought she was sterile?"

"The serum wears off. Actually, if she does not get another dosage, she will begin aging as normally as any other human being. Her last dosage, as you should know, _was_ in 1984. They only last so long. You were periodically injected as well. Captain America was cryogenically frozen presumed dead, but the reality is that he was preserved, as was the serum inside. You three are in the same boat." Bucky went a bit mad at the thought. No wonder she seemed familiar. She was older than they had both previously thought. It made sense, now. The time period. The connections. But all that time being called a grandpa, when she also needs a walker. This was gold. Of course, there was no way he could one up her for this because Bucky was sure she already had a card up her sleeve that she was prepared to play at all times if somebody ever came at her with this nonsense, but it still felt good knowing about it. Although it stung at the same time.

"Wake up now, James." She said setting the boy on the ground once they reached their destination. The boy proceeded to yawn, stretch so far you could hear his little bones crack, and rub his eyes all while still keeping them shut. He leaned against the small wooden fence, obviously wanting to rest a bit more. "You're all rested." She chastised. "Come, help me in teaching this man the ways of the Wakandan people."

The boy perked up at that, his baby blues shining with excitement. He turned around and faced the man. "Do you know my mom and dad?" Bucky was hesitant in answering to the young boy. He had an idea, but he was afraid of being wrong.

"I t-think so,"

"Their names are St-Ste..eve and N-Na-Nat-as-sha."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You know them?"

"Oh yeah. Steve was my right-hand man. We were like brothers."

"Really?" He was more excited than before.

"Yes really. My name's Bucky. You could ask your dad all about it when he comes back"

"That's cool!" The boy stood up straight and outstretched his hand. "Nice to meet you, Uncle Bucky. My name is J-James" James took a moment, pausing and puffing his chest out in thought. It hadn't been too long since he last introduced himself, but he still seemed to have problems pronouncing his name (and many other things). He glanced upwards in thought, before refocusing his gaze on his new uncle and the task at hand.

"Franc-is Rog-ers." He finished, his smile proud. Bucky put on a sly smile and shook the boy's hand. It was obvious Cap hadn't left without teaching his boy some manners.

"That's a nice name you have there. I'll have you know, my first name is James too."

"Cool!" He turned around. "Shuri, we go chase animals? I want show Uncle Bucky the mini goats!" He whipped back around to face Bucky. "They're the coolest! And they do this thing" he looked back. "What's it called, Shuri?" He made two little figures with his hands, his pointer and middle finger folded back as he aggressively hit both together. "Like that but nicer?

"Bucking?"

"Yes! They duck at you! But softly like they're playing."

"Really?" Bucky asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir. They're very cool. Come! Come, Shuri! Let's show him!" He grabbed Bucky by the hand and wrapped his fingers softly around Shuri's. Shuri smiled.

"Of course, brother." He wasn't actually, but it felt right. Shuri had always wanted a little brother that could join her in the pestering of her elder one, and boy did they play pranks on T'Challa. It was almost like James was always meant to be in Wakanda. She hoped she could say the same for his namesake.

* * *

 **Around 1-2 Months before the battle in Wakanda, 2019**

Every other month Steve and Natasha would come to visit their child. They were disappointed in Shuri telling Bucky or anyone about their son, as he was a well kept secret, but it was ok because it was a one time thing, at least as promised by the royal family. It was made clear with Natasha's warning, Steve having to back Natasha up, fearing their alliance with Wakanda. Ramonda understood the concern, having kept her own two children sheltered for so long. T'Challa made it clear to the tribes of the special circumstances of the boy. With that, Nat was a bit calmer, but it was still a sore subject for the two, mainly Natasha.

The happiest visit was the penultimate one. Everything was going well, and it was the longest visit by far. Even Sam, their most trusted and practically only friend who could just come with them, had joined in on the family fun. T'Challa had greeted them at the border with open arms along with Bucky and Shuri. They later found James playing with the mini goats.

" _Долгожданная,"_ Natasha had called out. James whipped around at the familiar sound, and tears of joy had filled his eyes.

" _Mama!"_ he exclaimed. " _Papa!"_ He immediately took off, running straight in their direction. Wobbling his way over the fence, they met each other on the outside.

"Hi bubba" Steve said, relaxing into his family's embrace, James' tiny hands squeezing them both.

"I can't believe you're here! I thought you weren't sapposed to come for another month!"

"Sapposed? We're _supposed_ to come whenever we want to see our little _Долгожданная."_ Natasha stole him from Steve's grasp, giving James a breathing exercise of how much she tickled him.

"Stop!" He heaved, barely able to breath. "Stop! _Mama_ , I beg you!"

"Alright, alright," Steve said, picking James up from Natasha's arms. "It's done. You're ok."

Natasha gave Steve a playful death glare before smiling at James. "So, T'Challa tells us you have a surprise for us?" James' eyes widened.

"He betrayed me?!" He tapped his dad for him to let him go. Steve raised an eyebrow but he did as asked. James ran past them towards the treeline where Shuri, Bucky, and Sam watched from afar. He continued running until he stopped in front of Shuri. He motioned for her to bend down and he cupped his hand behind her ear and whispered "T'Chacha has betrayed my trust. We must retaliate."

She had heard it for years, yet it still took some will to not laugh at James' mispronunciation of her elder brother's name. "Of course, my brother. We will make sure T'Challa pays for his crimes."

James backed away and nodded once. Shuri did the same. James crossed his arms across his chest and nodded once again. "For Wakanda." He said, in his best wakandan accent he could concoct. Bucky was used to this. In fact, he had gotten so used to it, that he knew what it meant.

 _T'Challa will soon be pranked._

Sam, however, was new to this Wakandan chant. And he didn't know whether it was joke or culture, and he didn't know why, but it took every ounce of his being to not burst out laughing at his friends' son's full integration into a culture he knew (and heck, probably they knew) nothing about. He didn't mean any disrespect, but the irony of the situation is what got to him. Bucky cracked a smile as well, not only for what is to come, but also of Sam's red face.

Man, he was really holding in that laughter, wasn't he?

"For Wakanda!" Shuri repeated, smiling.

"Ok," He motioned for her to bend down again and cupped his hand behind her ear once more. "Can you please get my surprise for my _mama_ and _papa_?" Shuri nodded.

"Of course, brother. Go to them. I'll bring you your gift as soon as you give me the command. Remember the signal?" The boy nodded, pulling a big handkerchief-like object out of his front pocket and waving it around his head. He struggled a bit, his arm wobbling a little on each turn, but he managed either way. "Good. I shall go now. You go to your parents." James nodded, stuffing the small blanket back into his pocket before running back to his parents as he was told. As he arrived, Steve held out his arms, which James proceeded to jump into.

"Easy bubba, easy." James was smiling from ear to ear.

"I just can't believe you and _mama_ are here." Natasha's smile faulted. She hated not being there for their son. If it were up to them, they both would stay the longest time ever. But they couldn't take him out without it being obvious of whom he is from and they definitely can't be seen together without putting their son's life in danger. It was a tough position but it was one they had to make. Even if it broke their hearts.

"Well, you better believe it!" She replied, excitedly, for James' sake. "In fact, you'll have more than enough time to believe it, because we're staying for a whole month!" James' eyes lit up, throwing his hands up in the air in excitement. Steve dodged the movement easily but shot a warning glance at Natasha. She knew they couldn't promise that. Even if they had some downtime now, the universe was always trying to threaten them into extinction. It wasn't very fun at all.

"Really, _Mama_? You mean it?" Steve wanted it to be true. He did. All they could do was hope.

"Of course, _Долгожданная_. We'll stay with you 'til the end of time. You know we just have to get to the beginning of it first." Instead of stealing James from Natasha's arms again, he just brought them both close, wrapping James inbetween them.

"We love you _bubba_. We always have, and we always will."

" _Я тоже люблю тебя, мама и папа._ " Another big hug. It lasted until James saw Shuri in the background with the surprise. He got really excited. "Stay here," He said, hopping down from his mother's grasp. He reached into his pocket and pulled the cloth out, waving it as high as he could above his head. When he saw that Shuri began emerging from the treeline, he dropped the cloth and turned around. Pulling his parents by the arms, he turned them away from the treeline and took out his pocket instruments. "Look at what Shuri and Uncle Buck taught me!" He exclaimed, starting shaking the instruments and began dancing. Steve and Natasha shared a look as James began singing.

Their kid was spending _way_ too much time in Wakanda.

In fact, Natasha had an idea. One that she knew Steve wouldn't like. It wasn't like she really liked it either, but she really needed to take her baby out to see the real world. James had been guarded for so long, she was worried he didn't know anything besides Wakanda and the little minimum Russian she taught him. She hated where she came from, but not her roots. Her Russian culture was still very dear to her heart even if her history wasn't the best with it. And that was even if she couldn't remember the first half of her childhood. But that was decades behind her. And she was sure Steve had some of his own traditions that he would like to share with their son. She was glad they had gone the Barton route, but at the same time she hated it. It worked great for Clint, yes. But she hadn't the slightest idea why it won't work for them. When the song was finished, James turned them back around to see three rhinos fit in riding gear, one a baby.

"Hiru and Saka finally had their baby so now I can officially ride with you!" James announced, pulling his parents by their hands and leading them to the rhinos. "Come on," he said finally dropping their hands upon arrival and hopping onto the baby Rhino. "This is T'Juri. Or just Juri sometimes. I wanted to combine me and Shuri and T'Chacha's names together since we all helped Saka through her labor. Uncle Buck was too grossed out. Said he'd stick to goats." That made Steve chuckle as he helped Natasha mount Saka. Once she did, he helped James onto Juri, James scrambling on before getting settled down. Then, he mounted his own rhino with the help of Shuri.

"Ok!" James said excitedly. " _ngoku_!" He yelled in Xhosa, commanding the rhinos who then started walking. It was slow at first, but then James gave another command which made them start going a lot faster. So much faster, in fact, that if Natasha wasn't holding on, she would have surely fall off.

If someone had told Rogers and Romanoff way back when they first went to Wakanda that almost four years later they would be best friends with the King and his sister and would visit them, Bucky and their now three and a half year old son on the regular, they wouldn't believe it. Hell, four years ago Natasha thought she was still sterile. Of course she knew her serum was running out but she expected to be sterile without it. And the way she found out she was pregnant with James? She wouldn't wish it on anyone.

It was the only thing that kept her at bay without seeing him for so long at times throughout the years. And that awkward spy thing with Banner which was a failure. I mean, she got Rogers unintentionally in it and even Sam.

But it was all for nothing. Lullaby Protocol didn't work. They didn't even know where Banner was now. The Secret Avengers was working just fine so far. Wanda and Vision have relocated off site, Vision finally being able to fit in. Rhodey chose to stay on base while Sam just sticks with them. Sam had been incredible helpful, doing nothing but help with the new initiative since it began. When Steve and Natasha announced they were going on vacation, it was rare the times that Sam would join. This visit was one of those rare times. Plus, Sam was just very _eager_ to spend some time with Bucky. Which, in all honesty, could be anything but good for the two parents.

 _Parents_.

Ha.

And to believe how this all started.

* * *

 **Natasha's POV, 2015**

 _It was the first time she had interacted with Wanda, and it was the worst first impression ever. Without a second to spare, the visions came. It started when she went down the stairs, her surroundings becoming one of the oldest red rooms she could remember. The one that was hidden in plain sight._

 _Their mentor screaming and the ones being mentored doing the same from the inside. The process they all went through. And the process the little ones looked onto, in precognition of the abuse they were soon to uphold, besides all of the abuse they already had. One their sisters were currently upholding. Natasha remembered the pain clearly. Being a ballerina was stressful enough, adding doing it to be graceful and save your own life. Only a select few would make it out of there, as was constantly taught to them just as young as the young ones on the side who looked on. Only the most graceful, the most daring, the most cunning, and the most menacing would make it out alive. She remembered the cold process._

 _"You'll break them." She stated, trying to stop it. Madame B stood behind her. She was the one that had praised Natasha the most and listened to her the most. For some reason, she held Natasha up as a prized jewel. She wasn't sure if it was for something she had done in her youth, but she was always more tough on her. Expected more of Natasha than she believed she could even handle. Even if she knew it was all for the end game, she still hoped that Madame B would listen to her. But it was all in vain, because that hope is exactly what she broke from Natasha. She had forcefully ripped hope from Natasha's arms, leaving her the stone cold, expressionless spy she was then._

 _"Only the breakable ones" She replied. "You're made of marble." That was pride. Pride at the graceful monster she had created. "We'll celebrate after the graduation ceremony." The vision shattered briefly, showing the first time she had the serum injected before returning to it's original state._ So, _Natasha figured._ The more I interact with it, the more it crumbles.

 _"What if I fail?" The vision faded to one of her first solo exams. Back when she was Natalia. They had begun easy. Target practice. Get too many off, and get shot yourself. The twist? The person who had practice after you had to shoot you after completing their own rounds. Natalia went first, succeeding the first round. For the first round, they had a line of KGB traitors. The scenes interchanged briefly once more as Madame B reminds her._

 _"You'll never fail."_

 _And it was true. Because she never did. In fact, when the vision switched back, it was more of a memory. The memory of how she didn't hesitate. A memory so distasteful that her mind had repressed it completely among side many others. It reminded her of the monster they had created within her. A monster that they had instilled so far into her, that she was worried she'd never be able to shake it, never get rid of it. She hated the fact that they were proud of that. Proud of the many tortures they subjected these orphans to, proud of killing them off if they did not satisfy. It was disgusting. Yet no matter how much she had worked to get rid of their disgusting grip, no matter how much pain she went through, no matter how many years went by, she was never able to shake that_

 _Once the vision ended, it continued into another. The sparring sessions with members from the Winter Soldier Trial. She had failed that one._

 _"Sloppy." She hears Madame B criticize in the background as she's put into a choke hold. "Pretending to fail. The ceremony is necessary for you to take your place in the world."_

 _That was a trick. A series of brief moments flashed past Natasha's eyes._

 _"I have no place in the world." There was so much emotion behind that statement yet Natalia let none of them show through. She knew what would happen if she did._

 _"Exactly." The operative attacked her from behind, the vision smoothly transitioning from that memory to the next. One of her being strapped down to a table, and run down halls. Ceremonies meant experimentation, two of the results stood by the beginning of the process, mouthless, as she was carted away. She remembered the two girls. Constantly chastised for their bickering, when they went through the first ceremony, the one for the young kids, their mouths were sewn together. Nobody knew how but everybody knew why. They were constantly used as a warning or a fear prop. And they certainly inspired fear in whoever crossed them. Before the ceremony began, however, the vision cut and showed me a familiar scene. One that was off. It was the children recruits. They were going through their beginning ballet trials but in the background I heard a..._

 _A woman. And she was singing._

 _It was a lullaby. In russian._

 _She sounded familiar yet there was no indication Natasha knew who this woman was. There were cooing noises over her own voice, like a baby's, but the lullaby was still there. Like it was taken straight from a memory, but she had no recollection of what was in front of her. This must be where the "fear" in worst memories/fears part of Wanda's powers came in. But she had no understanding of it. It was normal KGB Red Room training and brainwashing. She didn't know what to expect or what to look for._

 _That's when she saw it. It was any entire room full of children, yes. But children she knew. There were seven. There was Cooper, Lila and four other children that looked just like them. And then she saw him. It was a boy. He was completely different from the crowd of children. Instead of having the bronze hair, he had her auburn type. Instead of having brown, grey, or hazel eyes, he had baby blues, kind of like Steve's._

 _It was impossible, she had thought at the time. She was sterile and it only happened once._

 _Or twice._

 _The point being that the KGB's off brand super-soldier serum had made her sterile and there was no possible way she could be pregnant._

 _Madame B strolled up to her familiar position behind her. Natasha would look back, but she was stuck eyeing the child._

 _"Your fear was that he'd fail? Well, fear not. He's excelling."_

 _No._

 _That was the worst news ever. She'd rather a child of hers die than have them fall into her childhood. The lullaby grew increasingly in volume._

 _She wouldn't have her offspring hate themselves as much as she did herself._

 _That's why she was partially glad she couldn't have children._

 _"I'm afraid that was my fear" She answered softly._

 _"Why? He would be terminated from the program, otherwise."_

 _"I'd rather him killed then subjected to your torture."_

 _"Torture?" She heard a knife being unsheathed and Madame B took two steps up to her, wrapping her left arm around Natasha's neck in a choke hold and holding the knife threateningly up to Natasha's stomach. "I'm afraid you don't know much about that, dear."_

 _She slowly passed the blade over her abdomen, teasing what would come next. The tears dropped by themselves as she felt the pain, brutally shattering any hope once again. She watched as her fake son, nephews and nieces were subjected to the same treatment she got, over and over again as the scene burned away in her eyeballs, the lullaby all that remained._

 _All she saw was darkness for a while, before her eyes opened at the ending of the song. She was being held, couldn't have been more than two years old. She saw her mother's face. One that she thought she'd never see again._

 _"You're still awake? One more song?" She asked in Russian to a baby Natasha. She remembered nodding slowly, half-dazed, and her mother went on singing another song. Her baby self continued staring at her, her little eyes fluttering shut. Her current self wanting to absorb as many features as she could, because all she could remember was what happened next. Her father burst into the nursery, looking very disheveled and her mother set her down in her crib. They talked and talked. It was so frantic and scared that she remembers her baby self begin crying. Her mother had run over to pick her up. There were lots of screams and yelling and thuds and it was increasingly getting warmer. She remembered her father screaming at her mother about "the children" in Russian and about how they were surrounded and about how there were soldiers outside and how they needed to get the rest of the children. She also remembered her mother and father kissing her goodbye before they threw her down to the soldiers down below. All she saw next was fires. And the fire grew to overtake her vision once again before she could finally blink it all away. Blink all the nightmares away._

 _She was sitting in the quinjet. They all were. She looked down at her belly before glancing around some more than fixating herself on it._

 _There was no way? Was there?_

 _No._

 _There was no way._

 _She knew it was against her secret mission protocol aka rule number one: Don't get close/flirt with anyone else except for Banner especially in front of Banner, as this might raise some questions, but she just couldn't help it. She needed to be closer to him. She needed to tell him._

 _She slowly got up and repositioned herself even closer to Rogers. She was already pretty close. About two seats away, but she made the space smaller. Small enough to feel comfortable, but big enough to make everyone else feel comfortable as well._

 _"Hey, Steve." She knew she was probably the last person he wanted to speak to. He had gotten attacked as well, and only God knows what he saw._

 _"Hi," he lazily glanced over. "Do you... what do you see? Can you see me? Or are you still..." he trailed off. They were both lost in thought, but Natasha knew what he meant._

 _"No, no. I'm here." She responded. "Are you?"_

 _"Yes." She looked down at the floor, sneaking glances at her stomach. She had felt a bit fatter but doesn't every woman think that when they think they're pregnant? And she was **sterile**! That certainly had to put a wrench in that idea, doesn't it?_

 _"That's good," she kind of reassured. To who? She wasn't sure. Maybe if they stayed in the spell they could learn about the witch. But they couldn't. Only she could learn about them. They didn't talk much after that brief exchange. It was a consolation, at least-the vision. At least she had gotten to see her parents one last time._

 _At Barton's farm, she spoke_ _half-truths to Banner. Though she reassured herself through her own lies trying to make sure that 1) she believed it and 2) Banner wouldn't leave alone. Fury had asked that of her; that, and_ only _that, as his last parting mission._

* * *

And she failed. Project Lullaby miserably.

"What'cha thinking?"

"My hair." She said turning around to face him, without skipping a beat. "Blonde. What do you think?" He chuckled.

"What are you actually thinking?" He asked, getting closer to her.

"See, I _was_ thinking about dying it a strawberry blonde, kind of like your color. Then I thought... a light, Platinum blonde. Now _that_ would look good. Cut my hair short, boom" Steve chuckled some more before wrapping himself around her.

"You know that's not what I mean."

"James." She turned into his grasp, searching his face. The mood in the room changed entirely. "I'm worried about him. He hasn't seen much outside of Wakanda. Maybe we could take him somewhere. Preferably somewhere with Clint and his cousins."

"You know why we can't do that."

"I know but we could take him out sometimes. At least to Clint's."

"Natasha,"

"I know, I know."

"It's for the best,"

"I know!" She twisted away from him. "I'm just saying! We aren't in pressing or imminent danger all the time now! In fact, we haven't been so in such a long time. We've been looking for it, actually. And I know these missions are important, but our son is too, and James has been far too long in Wakanda. I just think we should be able to take him with us, and nobody can fault us for that. Especially to a place like Clint's. He's never even met his Uncles properly outside of Bucky and now Sam. He can't possibly even remember any of the Bartons of how long it's been." Steve sighed.

"I know Natasha, but remember? Both of us promised to contradict the other when one of us has feelings to take James with us. You remember that?"

"But what happens if both of us want to take him with us? You know you want to too." She had backed him into a corner. Steve wanted this just as much as her and she knew it. The excessive use of pet names, the excessive hugging and holding. They both missed their little boy. And they both knew it. Even if Steve wanted to stick to that ignorant and naïve promise they made when they first let James go.

"I don't want to be the bad guy, Nat," he said turning her back around to face him.

"Then don't be!" She snapped, whisper-shouting, minding the small red head who was asleep, limbs sprawled out as far as they could reach. Steve stared at her intensely before finally caving in.

"Where would we even take him? Barton's farm has been compromised." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Do you really believe that? Before the whole Ultron scandal, the number of people who knew that farm existed was six. And that's including Laura, Lila, and Cooper. The number increased to ten. Two went missing, meaning the number decreased to eight. The only one who _could_ compromise that location is Tony, and Tony knows he'll only know hell if he does that, because I would personally come after him. And it wouldn't be in hand-to-hand combat." Steve pondered it for a second.

"Yeah. You can be quite deadly when you want to," He said smiling. That made Natasha smile.

"So," Natasha said playfully. "Platinum, then?"

* * *

 **Долгожданная means "My Long Awaited".**

 **Я тоже люблю тебя, мама и папа. translates to "YA tozhe lyublyu tebya, mama i papa." which** **means "** **I love you too, Mom and Dad. (Mama and papa)"**


	2. The Cossack Lullaby

**Hey. So I was asked for more, and I kind of agreed so I'm making this story into a series of one-shots. I have some requests which I do plan on fulfilling, they're just taking me a bit more time to make. I might separate the request into different chapters, because the next one I'm writing is already like 10k words down and I haven't even gotten through half of the request (at most I've done one in the chapter).**

 **While this one is not a request, it is a scene that I thought of and could finish in the time frame I put up for myself.**

 **So this is the day they gave James away..**

* * *

 **August 2017**

It was pouring outside, perfectly fitting the tone within. Natasha stood by the door, not wanting to get any closer to the scene. Steve sat on the bed, James in reach, teaching him all that he could. This was a daily thing, but it was more enforced today. The puzzles were put away and so were all the baby books.

Today's subject was on saying please and thank you, and how to politely greet someone. It was cute. Something that was taught, again, on the daily. While they weren't too sure if James understood the undertones of this dark day, they were sure he had an idea of what was going on. For one, there was only the single duffle bag by the door, instead of the usual three. For a second, Steve wasn't exactly the least transparent with these things. Especially when it's emotional.

Hell, neither was Natasha.

Yet here they were.

"How would someone greet you?" The room flashed as the sky lit up outside, the rumbling sound of thunder following quickly after. There was a leak in this safe house, one not too dangerous. It would definitely take a while before any actual problems would arise, but they still had to move the bookshelf near the window in order to stabalize the bucket on top. The plopping sound was the only constant in the whole situation. James' replies to the questions were fast and proud.

They were waiting on T'Challa. He had taken in Bucky, but they weren't too sure on how he would take to their two year old.

Well, Natasha hoped it would all be in good faith.

"And when you meet someone, James?" He proceeds to hold out his tiny hand.

"Nice to meet you, my name is J-James Ro-gers."

Natasha looks on from the side, arms crossed, off the door frame. She smiles at the scene.

"James Francis," she reminds him.

"James Franc-chis"

"James Francis," she chastises softly, walking over and smoothly sitting down on the edge of the bed. She gently brushes his long hair off of his face. "Say it with me, James-"

"James"

"Francis"

"Franc-chis" Steve held in a chuckle and Natasha bat him a look.

"No, _Долгожданная_ , listen closely. James Francis"

"James Francis" He finally repeated correctly. Natasha celebrated, clapping for the little boy. Steve joined in as well.

"Yay, James! You did so well!" He smiled at the words, revealing his little baby teeth. She had teased Barton for his kids, but she'd be damned if she didn't admit she couldn't get over those baby teeth. They're adorable. Nathaniel had his all set in stone, and James was well on his way there. "Do you think you can show Uncle Clint that?"

James was confused, but excited to stay on the happy and rewarding train, he nodded.

"Ok," Nat pulled out one of the more advanced phones they owned, and began calling Clint through video camera. He picked up quickly. "Hey Clint" She said through the camera. "How's retirement treating you?"

"Like I never even left. How's motherhood?" She turned the phone, showing James, and cutting off Steve by his head. "Oh. Hi, Steve. Hi, James"

James had a puzzled look on his face, as if questioning why he was looking at a man whom he barely knew, who also looked terrible because it looked like he was remodeling again and wasn't looking too hot.

"James, show Uncle Clint what you learned." James' eyes lit up as he finally understood what the moving picture in front of him was for.

"Nice to meet you, Unc-cle Clint, my name is James Franc-chis"

"Rogers," Steve added.  
"Rogers" James imitated. Clint chuckled.

"Nice to meet you too, buddy. Hey guess what?" James didn't respond to the question, only holding a questioning face. It was almost as intimidating as his parents. He just had an insane mixture of his parents, dammit. Clint did not want to see the kid when he grew up. With his parents' mixture of hotheadedness? Clint didn't even know how the two ended up together in the first place. They were the definition of chaotic good.

"Ok, well here's an old friend" Clint added, noticing the kid wasn't going to say anything, just as silent as his parents who were attentively watching. Nat laid down next to the two so she would now be able to see what was happening, and fixed the phone so it would show all three of them in frame. Speaking of frame, Clint added a new face to his. "Say hi, Nathan"

The three year old looked up, facing the camera. He had the biggest baby face ever, his chubby smile made Natasha give one of her own.

"Hi" Nathaniel said before returning to the blocks he had in front of him. Apparently, he was trying to get them as tall as he could without knocking them down, and he was very deep in concentration.

"Nate? Nathan? Remember me? Do you know who I am?" Natasha asked. Nathaniel faced the camera and his face scrunched up. He raised a finger and tapped the phone, the whole frame shaking as Clint tried to stabilize it.

"Auntie Nat?" He asked questioningly. She smiled, glad he recognized her.

"Yes, I-" She was interrupted by a rumbling of footsteps.

"Speak of the devil" they heard Clint mumble as he closed his eyes. Suddenly, two very familiar faces appeared onscreen. "And her minions will appear," he continued under his breath before drastically changing his tone and volume. "Hey kids"

"Is that auntie Nat?" Lila asked, ducking to see the phone.

"Umm, yes. Yes it is."

"Hi auntie!" Lila exclaimed dropping down on the floor to be able to see the phone. Clint fixed it so both of the new additions could be seen properly.

"Hey auntie! How are you? Is that James?"

"Yes," she said happily. "I'm doing great, Cooper. Thanks for asking."

He smiled. Lila felt a bit jealous of the interaction Cooper was getting.

"Are you guys coming over here soon? I've been drawing many pictures for your next visit,"

"I'm sure you have Lila. I bet they're beautiful." It was Lila's turn to smile now, and she was proud of her moment. Steve picked up James and drew him closer to himself, causing Natasha to have to go closer to him as well in order to find a better angle. Clint looked at his kids proudly before Nathaniel threw a small fit, causing the blocks to all fall down. Lila's eyes were wide as she realized what Nathaniel had done and quickly made her way out. Cooper lingered, but eventually followed his younger sister.

Nathaniel's tantrums were a force to be reckoned with. It could start with you being too close for him to be comfortable, and it would snowball into things much worse. One time the kid threw a fit because Lila was looking at him.

Safe to say he's the drama queen of the household. Taking right after his namesakes, actually. Both Natasha and Pietro were some of the biggest drama queens Clint had ever met in his entire life, and he used to work for a circus. Following his elder children's route, he also got up and left asking Laura if she could help him because he had to finish his project. She had narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head, but she did walk over and calm him down, telling him to say hi for her in the process.

"So, was that it Romanoff? Gotta admit, this is an adorable sight-the three of you, and long as I'd like to stay chatting, I really do need to finish this project."

"Whatever, Barton"

"Ok," Clint put his phone down, which was apparent because all they saw was a cieling. He showed off a power drill. "Was that serious? Because I was actually being serious"

"Bye Clint." Before the conversation drew any longer, Natasha hung up and placed her phone at her side. She turned a bit and looked up at Steve and James, smiling lazily. She wiggled up even closer, almost sharing Steve's lap with James before stopping and wrapping her Долгожданная in her left arm, her right reserved for Steve.

A bit impractical, sure, but it was comfortable. Steve's right leg was curled up on the bed protecting James from falling. His right arm was also protectively around their little boy and with Natasha's new position, his left was now holding her as well.

It was comforting, the lot of it. Rainy days usually called for lazy ones but in their lives, days like that are rare. It felt nice to pretend for a while.

Play house.

But the while eventually came to an end as they heard an all too familiar knock on the door frame.

"Hey," he said awkwardly, shuffling into the room. Natasha looked up, Steve had tears in his eyes. James was perplexed, staring at his parents and glancing slowly back and forth between them and Sam. He soon sensed the tone of the room, and his little chest began heaving. "Um," Sam continued, confirming what they believed to be true. "It's time."

Natasha propped herself up with her right arm and comforted James. "It's ok, James" she said softly. He was never one to have separation anxiety, thankfully, but he knew this was different. They all knew. The long faces, somber attitudes, they held him as much as when he was that tiny little baby, depending on all those tubes to survive.

So much time apart, so many times they almost sacrificed themselves in the moment, Steve believing James needed his mom more, Natasha believing James was owed Steve, a man with a much cleaner record than hers who could provide the best example for him. A man with heart.

Natasha hadn't known if she could provide that for James at first and she even still questioned it to this day.

If worse came to worse, no matter how many drunken promises she had made to Steve, she would not be the one walking out with her life.

No.

She already owed him her life anyways. She sat herself up and pulled James onto her lap, gathering him into her arms. Sam lowered his gaze, quietly stepping out. Steve took it upon himself to move them. He knew the three of them would stay there forever if they could, but they couldn't. James was getting too big and if he began wondering off while they were off on missions...

It was a dangerous thought.

One he couldn't even process. That's why the two made the compromise. As much as it hurt to let go of their little boy, they had to sooner or later. He slowly stood up, grabbing the strap of James' bag and staring back at the two. Nat looked up steadily, arms protectively over James. Their gazes met, both's pain evidently clear. It was a conversation. Their souls were reaching. They both couldn't bear the thought.

What kind of parents would leave their kid alone?

But they already had. With Sam, sure. And so many others that helped them.

So many.

They've been through so much. Should they quit?

Can they quit?

No.

They can't. It's not fair. It's not fair that others have to suffer by the neglect of those put in charge.

No it's not.

The world needs them. People like them. They need help.

What example would they be setting to James if they gave up now?

It's not fair.

But at the same time,

Is it safe for James? For him? For their baby? Their bubba? Their Долгожданная? Their long awaited? Their little buggy?

"Come on," Steve finally said, breaking the lengthy silence. Natasha sighed, shifting James up and scooting to the edge of the bed.  
"Here," he said slinging the bag over his head and outstretching his arms. "Let me take him."

"No, it's ok. I can hold James. You have his bag, anyways." Steve nodded in understanding.

"At least so you could stand up right."

Oh.

She felt like a douche. He just wanted to hold James. It was a mutual feeling. She nodded and handed James over. Steve took him gladly, his heart wrenching as he looked at his little boy. He loved him. He couldn't bear the thought.

James' lip quivered, his little red lashes were drenched. His nose was rosy and filled with snot and his blue eyes were barely noticeable with the tears that overflowed.

Steve locked his little boy in an embrace, holding back his own tears, his thumb gently caressing the nook of James' neck.

Natasha felt guilty of the way she acted previously, patting Steve on the shoulder and letting him know that he could carry James for now. She did, however, remind him to get moving by giving him a little nudge. It wasn't often that T'Challa sent out aircrafts, and he definitely wouldn't risk waiting too long.

The tears eventually dried off as James slowly dozed off in the comfort of his father's arms, his limbs dangling a little too comfortably for Steve. He was little, sure, but James was getting big and it was not going unnoticed. It numbed their pain as they entered the craft and each buckled into their own seats, James almost stirring as he was also buckled into his own. The rain on the roof of the aircraft was harmonious along with the hum of the engine. The silence that ruled the inside was a soft tone on the jagged mood. Steve and Natasha took comfort in each other's silence, Natasha resting her head against Steve's shoulder. Their fingers were intertwined, both hands resting slightly more on Natasha's side than Steve's. Many tears fell today.

With the knowledge of what was to come, the pair knew there would be many more.

Natasha'd like to close her eyes and be able to at least _imagine_ a perfect family life, but unfortunately she knew, that even with that small of a plea, she was seldom lucky.


	3. Irish Lullaby

**Hey guys! This is an Infinity War One-shot so major spoiler warnings for anybody who hasn't seen the movie. I've also set up a timeline of my own for the movies which I will now be displaying at each break (I have/will go back to update the other chapters). IW in this timeline takes place in 2019 instead of 2018 to give it a midway point between 2018/2020 (with the spiderman hoco's "8 years later" problem). That's really about all the changes I made to the timeline but I don't know how this will affect the future movies since I want this to be as canon compliant as possible. Anyways, that's all from me for now.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The Day of The Battle (2019)**

The quinjets are quiet, but not as quiet as you'd think. It took a trained ear to spot it, and Natasha was an expert at detection. She could hear the small groans from the old, outdated metal, the engines considerably loud. If Wakanda's jets had a low hum, these SHIELD jets practically screamed. That meant if she could hear it, others could too, and in this game even the smallest noise is considered dangerous, disregarding the cloaking mechanism.

Still, here she sat, next to Wanda and Vision. Steve sat across from her with the other two. Natasha frowned at the floor, thinking about what she should do. Bruce had been close to her. Closer than she'd like to imagine, yes, yet he was also extremely close to Tony. Although she was friends with Tony, their relationship had gone awry ever since her betrayal at the airport. She had tried so hard to avoid a firefight yet they managed to have one anyways-just when they were getting ready to introduce James, too. Tony is irresponsible, yes. Tony has a bit of an emotional control issue, yes. But he's a friend and it was getting tiring hiding James from one sole person. Hiding him from Bruce would just add another to the list. It would be easy to just give up and tell everybody but revealing James would be touchy, especially with their impending doom. Not only explaining how they hid a child for almost five years, but also the fact that once they let James roam free, she knew he'd want to be with them at all moments. She couldn't risk that. Not when they were awaiting a battle. It was a distraction, and if they had learned anything from that rough encounter at that train station back in Europe, they would know to not be distracted. Glancing up at Sam in the pilot chair, she realized something. They _need_ to make a decision. And soon.

She began staring at Steve, who's head was facing the floor. Eventually, he caught her gaze, eyes boring into each other. No words were spoken, but both understood what each asked the other. It was a question on both of their minds.

 _Can they introduce James?_

It was a stern look from Steve. Natasha returned it. It's a stupid idea, anyways; one that could possibly get James killed if they weren't careful.

 _No_.

It was decided then. Natasha gave him a slight nod and walked into the cockpit.

"Hey, Sam." Sam took a break from the controls, glancing back at her. "We've gotta switch it out. Business, you know?" Sam gave her a blank stare, setting the plane into auto pilot mode. "Thank you"

"Uh huh" he retorted, switching seats.

She shook her head before immediately turning on the transponder and tuning in to * _their_ * radio. "Black Bird to Black Panther, Black Bird to Black Panther, are you there?"

It took a moment, but eventually, Okoye answered. "Black Panther is not here now, do you need him now or can the message be passed on?"

"Do you know of the Red Fox?" There was a very big pause.

"Not entirely, no."

"I'll need Shuri or T'Challa then. Either is fine, but I need one who knows about the Red Fox like the back of their hand." She heard Okoye scoff on the other end.

"Is this of urgence?"

"Well, unless you count the end of the world on our hands as urgent, than no"

"I do not count it if does not concern Wakanda"

"See, that's the thing-" Sam chimed in before Natasha silenced him.

"It's happening _at_ Wakanda." There was a pause on the other end. Natasha could only imagine Okoye's blank face, eyes full of calculation. Neither would ever admit it, but they both reminded each other of one another. It made it easy to read the other when others couldn't and they both gained instant respect for each other because of it.

"Wait here" she finally responded, the line going blank before Natasha could even utter her small "Thank you." Eventually, T'Challa came online.

"This is Black Bird?"

"Yes, T'Challa, it's me, Natasha."

"Oh! Ms. Romanoff! How delightful it is to hear from you again! Are you coming to-"

"Shh-shh-shh! T'Challa! What have we spoken about ears?"

"Oh, yes. Forgive me. Shuri nags at me all day about him. I believe it is on her top favorite of topics to talk about besides her usual incoherent mumbles. It almost takes me a bit off track,"

"But a good king must know how to multi-task," she teased.

"Yes, yes. You are all fast to pick up things."

"Yes. Some of us have to be." T'Challa became mute for a brief moment.

"I will not dignify that with a response."

"Ok," Natasha chuckled. "I was checking in to tell you that White Wolf is ready for graduation."

"Can you repeat that?"

"White Wolf is ready for graduation."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, we've talked over it and we're sure. Plus, Sam's kind of missing his buddy-"

"Am not!"

"Whatever, Sam. Don't let me stop you in your endless denial." Natasha smiled, "Because I know for a fact you miss him."

Sam huffed in defeat, rolling his eyes."Ok, I may miss the punk a little. But only a little-and don't tell him I said that either because he'll put on that smug little face of his"

"Ok," Natasha winked. "I won't say a peep" and before Sam could threaten her, she began the transmission again.

"Red Fox is not ready for graduation, however."

"I understand perfectly. Now I need the two confirmation codes from you and Rogers directly."

"Ok, my code is... Are you ready? Because I won't repeat it again."

"Yes, I will write as you speak and compare it."

"Ok. Juliett-Alfa-Mike-Echo-Sierra, Romeo-Oscar-Mike-Alfa-November-Oscar-Foxtrot-Foxtrot, Romeo-Oscar-Golf-Echo-Romeo-Sierra, Juliett-Uniform-Lima-Yankee, Sierra-Echo-Victor-Echo-November, Tango-Whiskey-Oscar, Tango-Hotel-Oscar-Uniform-Sierra-Alfa-November-Delta, Alfa-November-Delta, Foxtrot-India-Foxtrot-Tango-Hotel-Tango-Echo-Echo-November."

"Perfect. Now, Steve?"

"Steve?" Natasha called back. Steve came up quickly and Natasha whispered, "White Wolf, Red Fox. Confirmation code." Steve nodded and Natasha handed her headgear to Steve. He put his hand up onto the gear and began transmitting.

"I hope whoever's listening listens closely." He heard T'Challa's voice confirmation on the other line before continuing with his own code. "November-Alfa-Tango, Juliett-Alfa-Mike-Echo-Sierra, Sierra-Tango-Echo-Victor-Echo, Romeo-Oscar-Golf-Echo-Romeo-Sierra." The small quinjet allowed everyone to hear at least a piece of the repetitive military code words. While Vision and Wanda couldn't care less, Rhodey was mainly interested in his game but hearing the codes felt familiar. Almost home-like. Something he could easily decipher. Judging by the pieces he could gather, however, they sounded like names and dates. He knew Bucky was in Wakanda, and so was James. Common knowledge really, so the codes didn't interest him whatsoever. Bruce, however, is where the cat struck. Curiosity had instantly filled Banner's mind as soon as he caught wind of any codes. He tried figuring it out on his own, but between the wind, the engine, and the many long codes that were spoken, he barely caught a single word. The most he caught was from Steve, who spoke exaggeratedly loud into the headset. Without a paper and pencil, it was hard for him, but he managed to catch the words James, July, and Rogers. He knew for a fact that Steve was born in July(because his birthday was on the fourth, incredulously), but he couldn't for the life of him figure out the James. Maybe it was a friend? An enemy? An acronym?

"It's procedure," Natasha said loudly, taking the headset off of Steve's head, barely moving from her seat and placing it on her own. "Wakanda has survived for many years based on hiding in plain sight with much more security than SHIELD has ever thought of. Calm your tits, we're not heading into a war zone." She turned a dial and continued, this time her volume dropping to a whisper. "Not yet, anyway."

"-you there?" She heard from the other line. They were breaking up bad. "What- mean- lost"

The static quickly took over the young king's voice.

"Dammit" Natasha cursed, hitting the old junk they called a radio.

"I can't hear you, T'Challa." She hoped the message would get across. After several futile attempts at communication, Natasha finally caved in. It was a miracle she was even able to get in contact with him in the first place, so she guessed it was ok. All details that needed to be discussed had been. It should be fine. "We'll talk in person, I repeat. We'll talk in person. Over." She barely caught the 'ok' that was transmitted back across, but she did. She switched off the headset, turning the station to a much more public one. She glanced over at Sam before looking back. Steve went back to standing (to which Natasha counted that Steve had approximately sat for about two minutes and twenty seconds, which was a new record for him), which also meant that going back to sitting with the crew would be extremely uncomfortable, judging by Steve's body language alone.

Vision and Wanda were uncomfortably close while the opposite was true of the space between Bruce and Rhodey. The whole scene seemed rather... _incommodious_ , to say in the least.

"You want to switch?" I asked Sam. He pressed his lips together.

"Be the pilot in charge of everything? Or be the co-pilot in charge of taking care when the pilot gives up? I think the answer's obvious to me. You were the one who chose to take my place," he kicked his feet up. "Look me in my eyes and ask if I'm complaining" Natasha rolled her eyes at him, swatting at his feet.

"You're going to break the controls, Sam."

"Once again, not my problem. As long as we don't get blown out of the sky, everything's looking extra fine for me." Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

"I seriously do not know how we've survived this long with you on our team."

"Hey! I carry this team!"

"Yeah. I'm sure you do," Natasha glanced back. "I _need_ you to take the pilot for a moment, is that alright?"

 _Oh_. So it was like _that_. Sam could never really tell with Natasha. "That's fine. I'm the better pilot, anyways."

"You forget who trained you."

"Certainly wasn't you"

"You live in a constant state of denial." Natasha stood up, letting Sam have the seat.

"Let me do you a favor in not responding to that"

"Oh, sweetie. I've got nothing to lose." Sam smirked.

"Are you sure about that?" The mood between the two drastically changed, Sam's only changing once he realized how drastically Natasha's had. Damn it.

Thin ice. Thin ice. Thin ice.

"You kind of stepped into that one." Her glare turned icy, fists balled and ready to punch if the daggers in her eyes couldn't finish off the job.

"Let me do _you_ a favor in not reacting to your comments." She snapped, whipping around and storming off towards Rogers.

 _F*ck_. Mission failed. _Disastrously_ failed.

Bruce quietly observed as Natasha stomped out of the cockpit, only to find herself at Steve's side once again. It was weird, their bond. Almost like they were trying to hide it. If they were, Bruce noticed, they couldn't mask it well. Everyone else seemed to not care about the duo, focusing on their own things. Rhodey continued playing some 2048 on his phone, already having entered into endless mode. Wanda and Vision were having a hushed conversation, their tones sometimes getting aggressive. Nobody, it seemed, cared about the duo, who stood together- side by side, Natasha sometimes stepping on her tip toes and whispering into Steve's ear. He often just bent down a bit to make it easier, but they would often just whisper in each others' ear so synchronized, you'd think they'd practiced it. Either it was old news, or everyone was in on it.

He had been gone for two years. He didn't expect Natasha to hang on to him. He had actually hoped she moved on, even if a small part of him hoped that she wouldn't. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He needed to stop. Natasha is her own woman. She can do what she wants; especially after what he did. He owes her that. Then again, she had tricked him into a kiss just so she could push him into a void to get Hulk to come out, so it wasn't like he betrayed her first.

God, that sounds so toxic.

He hoped that if she had found a relationship with Rogers, that it was genuine.

He never trusted her anyways. Not since that house when she first recruited him for the Avengers.

 _Alone?_

Alone, my ass.

* * *

Okoye found herself giving updates to the young king as soon as the trio of idiots called in. After answering to plenty of his commands or questions of said commands, Okoye asked one of her own.  
"And what of this one?" T'Challa responds calmly, glancing at the changed man who was smiling at the young boy who frolicked around him. The man tossed a stack of hay as the boy paused in front of the wagon, resulting in the boy doubling over and shaking his head, seemingly cleaning himself as he wiped his face aggressively and ran his hands through his hair. T'Challa could almost hear the faint tease, "Maybe that'll teach you to stay out of my way some." The boy smiled and soon picked up his antics once again, parading around the old man in a way that fashioned someone rounding up cattle.  
"This one may be tired of war. But the White Wolf has rested long enough"

As soon as the two noticed the small group that quickly approached, they themselves began walking their way. Well, running in James' case. He gave a big hug to T'Challa as soon as they met, calling him by his ridiculous nickname that T'Challa had grown to adore. It began as a mispronounciation and ended up as a second name (unfortunate, since Shuri liked to use the nickname every once in a while to spite him-which never worked, so far as T'Challa's concern). In short, only one person was allowed to call him that name, and it was not Shuri.

"Hello, brother," T'Challa greeted him softly, taking a knee to hug the boy.  
"Hi Okoye!" Okoye managed a slight smile at the boy, but she did not expect the hug that followed soon after.  
"Hello, James." She found herself saying. She did not, however, take a knee to hug him. She was fine with the awkward height difference between them both. It didn't bother her in the slightest. T'Challa motioned for them to bring the case and leave, so they did exactly that, James watching curiously while he held onto a few of T'Challa's fingers. Once they opened it and left, James tugged on T'Challa's suit, motioning towards it. He nodded to which James happily ran over and took a peek inside the box, having to stand on his tiptoes in order to get a good look. Bucky nodded slightly as he arrived, also taking the detour to see what was in the box. When he did, however, unlike James who was astonished at the cool metal arm before him, he was disappointed. He had learned to live without a left arm for years now.

Was it years? Looking at James, it sure felt like it.

There had been no mention of even the possibility of getting a new arm back during that time, and he had gotten used to the fact that he would only have one arm. And he was better now than ever without it so he knew this could only mean one thing, and he was sure he was going to strangle each and every one of their crazy asses as soon as they arrived.

"Where's the fight?" He asked finally, staring at the arm. James looked up at his uncle, a bit afraid.

 _Fight?_

"On its way." Bucky sighed at his response, pulling James close, ruffling his hair playfully to let him know everything was going to be ok. "Try it." T'Challa nodded at the arm. "I'm sure it'll fit snugly, Shuri guaranteed it." T'Challa looked at James before switching his gaze back up at Bucky. "She's sorry she couldn't make it.. She really wanted to be here but she has some preparations of her own to complete."

Bucky nodded, patting James on the shoulder before stepping past him to touch it. It was definitely metal, yet a lot softer and refined than his old one. He removed the cloth off of his shoulder, bending down slightly to avoid the struggle of getting it over his head. Placing the cloth down besides the case, he slowly picked it up, tossing it in the air, testing its weight and flexibility.

"It's pretty light, isn't it? Shuri made it clear that it is an extreme improvement from your last." Bucky nodded, turning the arm around and aligning it with his body, grunting as he forced it into place. It took a moment, but it calibrated quickly. It extended as soon as he thought to, moving just as quickly(dare he say, quicker), than his last. He played with the fingers, staring as each flowed swiftly back and forth. He compared it with his real arm, and they actually looked pretty equal.

"I'm impressed," he said, examining it a bit more. He rubbed his right hand up the metal arm. "It feels authentic." James curiously walked up to him, looking up at his uncle. It was weird for him to see Bucky with two arms. He loved him for the fact that he only had one. It made him special in James' eyes. Bucky would often joke to the boy that his left arm had done evil things and that that was the real reason why it was gone, and while he meant no harm to the kid, he may have accidently traumatized him. James now believed that once you do something evil with your arm, it falls off. Though he's never confronted anyone about it, he was glad that Bucky got a new arm but also sad. It just raised too many emotions and questions that he was not expecting for today. Like the fight. And the bad things? What happens to the bad things if he gets a new arm?

"Is this your second chance, uncle Buck? With an arm?" The question made Bucky pause as he carefully analyzed the question. It was definitely a layered one but Bucky would be lying if he said he knew exactly how to respond to it. "Y-" he paused yet again. He needed a good response. A simple 'yes' would not suffice-especially knowing how James is with these things. "I-My second chance started... ever since you first saw me."

James gave him a slight smile, making Bucky think he semi-achieved his goal. The feeling was quickly undermined as he saw James reaching up to touch the arm, realizing that James had entered his detective mode. It was fun sometimes, but at the wrong times Bucky found it to be very stressing. The kid's very smart, sometimes catching onto things not even Bucky would notice and him asking the thousands of questions that he couldn't even answer made him feel very incompetent. Especially when James would just give up on him and ask to see Shuri instead.

Now that _really_ stung.

But right now, James had no ulterior motives; he simply wanted to see if the arm was all that his uncle was cracking it up to be. He frowned at the touch. "It doesn't feel real" he mumbled before giving a face and going to hold Bucky's real hand.

"Well, it might feel a bit more real to me than it does to you," Bucky tried to explain. Before he could continue, however, James interrupted.

"I don't care. I don't wike it. It's not your other arm. You with one arm is better." Bucky half smiled at his nephew, shaking his grasp in order to bring him into a hug, the same one sided hug he had given him for years. "It's ok, James. Guess why?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm still one hundred percent me," he answered. "Just like you said, this arm is my second chance, yeah? If I don't like it, I can just take it off later, deal?"

"But what about if I don't wike it? Can you take it off now?" Bucky chuckled, responding effortlessly. "Well then how would I fight?"

There it was. That word.

James was extremely terrified of that word. He remembered his parents coming home all bloody, bruised, and battered. Sometimes their clothes would be ripped at the seams. James did not like fighting. No, James did not like that at all. He turned to T'Challa, who seemed to be calling all the shots here.

"Does he have to fight?" He asked, eyes barely open as he looked up at him under the glare of the sun. He hoped he could still see the plead in them. "I'm afraid he does, brother."

James pouted at that response, it obviously not being one he was looking for.

"Let's head to the city," T'Challa said soon after, closing the case and fitting it into his arm. "We have visitors coming and must prepare ourselves."

"Is it mama and papa?" T'Challa nodded.

"And more, brother. That is why you won't be able to see them until later. You, however-" He motioned to Bucky. "Will be with me on the frontlines when greeting them. And James," he bent down to get on his level. "If you're extra good and don't make a sound, I'll let you stay in the room next to the one we'll be talking in. It has one-way glass so that you can see what's going on, and we'll sneak your parents into the room one by one, deal?" T'Challa held out a hand for the boy. James considered it and he was almost about to shake his hand when he changed his mind.

"Pinky swear" he said, holding out a single pinky. On his last visit to the Barton household, Cooper and Lila had told him that a pinky swear was stronger than handshakes, and James-being the impressionable little boy he was, believed them. T'Challa smiled, sticking out his own pinky and entwining both of their pinkys together.

"I pinky swear," T'Challa promised. James gave a toothy grin. "I do too"

"Let's go! We are going to be late." Okoye rushed from the side. T'Challa agreed, standing up while simultaneously softly patting James on the back.

"Let's go see your parents, kid." Bucky said to the boy, joining the weird ensemble. James forgot about not liking the weird arm thing for a while, overcome with the joy and expectations that came with each of his parents' visit.

What would they do now? He wondered to himself, looking up at Bucky. He held both Bucky and T'Challa's hands, wishing he had three to hold Okoye's as well. But that was ok, because sometimes she scared James. Maybe she just needed more hugs.

Hugs fix everything, James decided.

Staring at the city a long ways ahead of them, he wondered how it was possible that they could walk for _that_ long. Usually, they would take his uncle's wagon, but today's not usually, he guessed. He liked riding the horse that pulled the wagon, but Bucky always decided that two people riding a horse is too dangerous and always sat James in the back with the hay. James thought that train of thinking was ridiculous. He rode rhinos when he was younger, why couldn't he ride a horse? Horses are way more tame, by riding standards.

Train of thinking, he went back to the phrase. Picturing a small thinking train.

What _did_ the mind look like? Maybe it was just like a toy train set with two paths.

He wondered if his mama knew. His mama knew everything. So did his papa. They both did. Papa always taught him things, but mama did it differently. She gave him the answers, he guessed. Or sometimes she would force him to figure it out by himself. That was always fun.

"Papa teaches boring" he said, looking up at Bucky. He chuckled at the unexpected statement.

"Why do you say that, bud?"

"Well," James furrowed his eyebrows. "Mama makes me do things and figure things out by myself sometimes. And that's fun"

"That makes mama fun," T'Challa contributed. "But why do you think your papa is boring?"

James became increasingly frustrated at the question, wishing he hadn't spoken up at all. He didn't know _why_ papa was boring. "He just _is_ "

"Is it because he doesn't let you figure out things by yourself like your mama?"

"No! He does" James answered defensively. "He's just... _different_."

"Well," said Bucky. "Both of your parents are. Sometimes they're the same, and sometimes they're different. Sometimes papa is extremely worried about you, and sometimes mama is. Sometimes mama will let you eat ice cream in the morning, sometimes papa will. Just because someone does things differently doesn't mean they're boring. Sometimes it's fun to click the differences together"

James nodded. That was true, he figured. One time papa let him eat candy in the morning, and he got a stomach ache later. That's why mama never let him eat candy in the morning. Mama let him stay up one night, and he didn't feel well the next day, which-he learned, is why papa never let him stay up past bedtime. It also explained why mama didn't like peanut butter, but papa did. It clicked, and peanut butter sandwiches never went to waste in their household. He smiled at the differences. It was fun to piece them together. Like how mama didn't like fries but papa loved them, so at McDonald's papa would get all the fries. Like how mama would sometimes be very sad and papa was almost always happy so he would make her happy.

Bucky, it seemed, had created the perfect game to keep the boy occupied.

Although, James realized about his latest puzzle pieces, sometimes papa would be sad and mama would just be sad with him. Was that a good match? Sad mama and sad papa were the same, so it couldn't be right?

"Hey, Uncle Bucky?"

"Yes, James?"

"If mama is sad, and papa is sad, is that a good match? Papa and mama can't be sad at the same time, wight?" Bucky and T'Challa shared a look.

"Um," Dammit, Bucky. Think. "Well, how do yo-what do you see after mama and papa are sad together?" James paused. Well... after mama and papa were sad together...

"They just sit there talking until they're better."

"Are they happy when they're better?"

"Yes,"

"Well, that's it! Sometimes you have to be sad before you can be happy." James thought about that for a second.

"Huh," he said softly. "You're my fourth favorite knowing person in the world."

"Knowing person?" Bucky asked at the random statement. He could never know what went through that kid's head.

"Umm... well...That you know everything?" He was confused about the question. "Like a knowing person."

"You mean smart?" James frowned in distaste at the word.

"I guess..."

"Who's your first favorite knowing person, James?" T'Challa asked.

"Shuri," He answered truthfully, smiling at the thought of his older sister. It was T'Challa's turn to frown now.

"What about your second favorite?"

"Mama"

"Your third?" Bucky asked.

"Papa"

"Your fifth?"

"Uncle Sammy"

"Sixth?" The two were alternating now.

"Momma." T'Challa couldn't even be mad with that logic. Though, if it were him, she would be way farther up the ladder.

"Seventh?"

"Vishon"

"Eighth?"

"Auntie Laura"

"Nineth?"

"Uncle Clint"

"Tenth?"

"Auntie Wanda"

"Eleventh?"

"You, silly" James giggled.

"I'm your eleventh favorite knowing person? Really?!" Bucky found himself laughing along with the boy. Even Okoye cracked a smile at the boy's adorable cackle.

"Well," James said inbetween giggles. "Shuri is the best." James paused, unable to stop laughing at T'Challa's face. "Mama is too. So is papa. Uncle Bucky is too, and so is uncle Sammy. Momma is really knowing, and so is Vishon. Uncle Clint knows a lot but not more than Auntie Laura. Auntie Wanda knows more about powers but she always needs help. And you know a lot too but Okoye is always helping you, so I'm not so sure you know too much."

Okoye cracked up at that, letting out a snort. Bucky was almost on the floor from laughing so hard and while T'Challa-who had actually remained neutral this whole time, only acting out his whole disapproval and shock (or so he liked to think), couldn't help but feel defensive towards the accusations. James was smiling at him innocently as if unaware what he had done. T'Challa knit his eyebrows together. He couldn't be mad at the kid, he was brutally honest. He could only be mad at the fact that he definitely knew what was coming. As if T'Chacha wasn't enough. Now Shuri would have double the ammo to shoot at him with and James was still none the wiser.

T'Challa sighed. It was a blessing and a curse, he deemed, to have a younger brother.

James hugged him. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelwings" he mumbled softly.

A blessing and a curse, indeed.

* * *

James watched silently as the adults discussed their problems in the other room. He couldn't contain his excitement. It was all of his favorite people in one room. Mama, Papa, Shuri, Uncle Bucky, Uncle Sammy, T'Challa, Auntie Wanda, and Vision.

Even Uncle Rhodey was there, although James wasn't too sure about him. He shared the same first name with him too, however, so James thought he had to be pretty cool. Vision sometimes scared James with his red and grey skin, but he seemed to know a lot and he talked funny so he was also pretty cool, he guessed. Otherwise, he knew everybody there except for the one man with the greying hair. If that was the only thing keeping him from being in the same room as most of his favorite people in the whole world, then James was mad. Extremely mad, actually. It wasn't fair that he had to pay the price for the man's presence.

James glared at the guard. She had a shaved head just like Okoye. And a spear.

"Why-"

"Shhhh"

Right. He forgot about that part. Stay quiet, James. He peeked out the window once more. He noticed his mama, who was looking straight at him. He wasn't sure if she could see him, but that didn't stop him from waving like crazy.

"She will not be able to see you." James glared at the woman, trying to stay silent. His ma clearly saw something. If he could yell at her, he would. Tell her he was in here. He couldn't understand why he couldn't. He hated this. He hated the pinky swear.

Why did he have to pinky swear?

He could've helped Vision, maybe. Or helped Shuri with Vision. He would do anything! Anything to- why was? What's happening? All of the adults stood at the huge windows, some looking at one another, others keeping their eyes straight ahead.

"It's too late," he heard Vision say. "We need to destroy the stone"

"Vision, get your ass back on the table." Oh. Mama said a curse. _Ooh. Mama said a curse._ The door opened suddenly, revealing none other than his mama. She shut it as soon as she worked her way in, looking at the the one-way glass and mumbling a small, " _I knew it._ "

James practically jumped her once he saw her. "Hi mama! I was watching you!"

"I know," she said. "How are you, _Долгожданная_?"

He frowned at the question. "Mama, is there-" Steve appeared as well, closing the door just as quickly as Natasha did.

"I thought I saw you disappear into here," He said happily, giving them both a hug. James smirked at his father, putting on a smug face.

"Papa, papa?"

"Yes, James?" James' smirk grew even wider.

"Did you hear mama curse?" Steve raised his eyebrows, amused.

"Really?"

"Yes. Did you? She said-"

"Oook, James" Natasha interjected, swiftly placing a hand over his mouth. "I'll make sure to throw in some money in the swear jar after we get home, ok?"

James nodded, holding out pinky. Here we go, Natasha thought as she wrapped around her own around James. It was a routine she did almost daily whenever she was with the Barton children, and somehow she found the tradition had carried on to her own child.

"I pinky swear, James, to put some money in the swear jar."

"Because?" He encouraged.

"Because I swore?" James nodded at the answer, pulling his mom into a hug.

"I love you mama"

"I do too, _Долгожданная_."

"We need to go for now, bubba. We'll be back, but you'll have to stay with Shuri."

"You're not going to fight too, right papa?" He asked terrified.

"Oh, _bubba_ ," Steve said softly, falling to his knees and wrapping James into a hug.

"You know we have to, James" Natasha said, equally as soft.

"No! No, mama! No you don't! You always get hurt! You both do!"

He was right. Of course he was. No matter how much they loved him, They both got a bit blind in battle. She would even say a bit overconfident. They hadn't died so far, but it didn't mean they couldn't. Sometimes they were both too much of stubborn dumbasses to admit that; or sometimes even see it.

However, this was the end of the world as they knew it. This wasn't a battle they could pick and choose.

They had to. Maybe they didn't have to do all those other missions in the past, but it wasn't like they could go back and change that. What was past is past. They're here now, and that's what they need to focus on. Nothing else. As much as it hurt, they would have to fight this battle, even if it was their last. And if it wasn't?

Well, retirement was sounding a lot more appealing every second Natasha thought about it more.

She was tired of fighting either way. Evil always came back. She had lived long enough to learn that first-hand.

Steve, holding his boy in his arms, finally understood the cost of war. When he looked into those eyes that mirrored his own, he finally realized it, remembering his own childhood through his son's teary eyes.

The Great Depression, the abuse. His sweet mother, his ill-tempered father.

"He's a good man, Steven," he remembered his mom saying through her bruised lips. "You just have to look for it. He's a bit frustrated now, that's all"

James has been alive for only four years yet Steve saw the same sad eyes he had seen reflected off of the mirror he'd clean or the dishes he'd wash as a child.

Surely they hadn't caused damage, had they?

James had no mom with him at times, neither his father, but he had come to terms with that. Sometimes they had to go. He desperately wanted to believe it was so, but Steve couldn't be blind. As much as he had pushed his own mother to see the repercussions of her actions, he shouldn't repeat her mistakes.

Compassion is good, fighting back is good, never giving up, they were all good: but Rogers seemed to finally get the statement his mother uttered to him long ago, when she held him in her arms, rocking him back and forth despite the bruises on both of their bodies.

"Pick your own battles, Steven." He closed his eyes and embraced his son even tighter than before. "Not every battle is yours to fight, and not every battle is big enough to matter. No one is in charge of your happiness except you. Don't ever let something something that doesn't matter cause you to lose something that does."

Just one last battle, Steve decided. Then he would change them. Just this last one, and then he would choose the next one.

No more yeses. No more obligations.

"Just stay with Shuri," Natasha said softly, rubbing the boy on the back. "We'll be back." She paused. "I promise-pinky promise"

She spoke too fast for Steve to stop her. James felt the impact he had left on his parents, feeling the tiniest bit of reassurance with that promise.

"Ok, bud." Steve said, "Go find Shuri. Make sure she doesn't need any help."

They'd be back. They'd all be back.

Soon, he'd maybe be able to be in that room with all of his favorite people. Maybe even with Aunt Laura and Uncle Clint and his cousins. Plus. Free reign? James _loved_ that. He got up quickly and ran out, holding onto the promise his mother had given him.

They were going to be fine. They were all going to be fine. Then he could spend some time with his favorite people.

 _All_ of them.

That alone put a huge smile on his face.

"Dammit, Natasha." Steve said as soon as James closed the door, staring up at her.

"What?"

"You know we can't promise James anything." Natasha sighed.

"He's just as stubborn as you are and you know he wouldn't leave otherwise."

"As I am? Are you sure about that?"

"That's true. He actually bothers to listen to me," Natasha retorted, giving him the small smile he loved.

"You know what, Romanoff?" She rose an eyebrow at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

" _What?"_ She questioned suggestively, giving him a small peck on his lips. Steve didn't even bother responding, pulling her back into a kiss. The fact that this could be their last only fueled it more, the kiss growing more and more passionate. _Their last kiss_. Pauses were brief as they continued, breathlessly. Steve's beard tickling Natasha's lips as she gave a tiny, happy sigh.

"Steve" she murmured delicately between kisses. "Steve, let's stop."

Steve nodded softly, stroking the tips of her hair. She was right, unfortunately. They remained entwined together on the floor for a while, already regretting keeping this a secret from Bruce. Finally opening her eyes, Natasha stood up gracefully, offering a hand to Steve which he gratefully took.

"Come on, they must be looking for us." Steve stopped her before she opened the door.

"Aren't we going to talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about? The world needs us. We might die, but we need to help. It's the name of the game, Rogers."

"Nat, you know that's not what I mean." Natasha furrowed her eyebrows, searching for Steve's meaning behind his words-behind his face.

"Steven, I-"

"I know, Nat. Just- I can't do this anymore. Not with how James is reacting towards this. We have to stop for a while, take a break." He looked outside, where he could see space crafts raining down around Wakanda. "Especially after this one."

"I agree"

"Wait-" Steve's face looking extremely shocked. "You agree? Are you sure?" Natasha nodded.

"Of course. James needs to be raised by his parents. I can't bear the thought of him growing up alone. Speaking of which, Steve. We need to talk."

"I thought- we are?"

"About fighting. We need to stop our bad habits."

"What habits?"

"I know it's not obvious but they're there. More predominantly in you, actually with your trying to kill yourself every once in a while."

"I do not!"

"Says the man who flew a plane into ice almost 80 years ago."

"Says the woman who was ok with dying on Sokovia almost 5 years ago. And who almost killed herself jumping into alien aircraft just to fly around and to the top of the Stark tower back in New York almost 7 years ago."

"Ok, first, they were both calculated risks. Second, you supported and even almost helped me achieve both." She paused. "The point is that we have a nasty habit. If we can't break it in this battle..." she trailed off. "Swear to me we won't fight anymore. Promise me you won't do anything dumb, Steve. If not for me, for James."

"I promise," he agreed reluctantly. She sensed his hesitation but calmed because he promised. "Now you do the same"

"I promise, Steve" she hid it better, but Steve sensed it all the same. They couldn't hide from one another. Natasha had a very complicated debt complex and Steve had his own selfless one. Though differently named, they stood for the same thing, even if only one could see it was true.

Before they left, they stopped by to kiss James goodbye before heading off to battle. After the short moment, James found himself conflicted. He knew Shuri was saving Vision and shouldn't be distracted but he had nothing to do. He paced around for a good while before sitting down on the steps. Watching outside was stressful and with so many people he knew out there fighting, he didn't want to watch either. Wanda did, however and it didn't take being at the window to see the huge saw-like alien machines on the field.

"I have to go" she half-whispered. With one less person he knew in the room, James grew anxious. He found himself next to Shuri, a small hand gripping tight onto the orange outfit. Shuri ignored it, the feeling actually comforting her, giving her support. The job wasn't hard. Just stressful and a big ball of anxiety.

 _Why couldn't she have done this in her windowless lab?_

James (and Shuri, for that matter), found himself staring outside at the window. Against his better four year old judgement, he watched the war that waged on outside. Wanda's first involvement was obvious, the giant saws going flying before crashing back down. She wasn't the same as James remembered her when she was up here. She was a lot more jumpy and anxious. Now that she was gone, Shuri tried cracking a joke-for James' benefit, but the whole idea rained back down on her rather quickly. James couldn't contain himself with the amount of anxiety he felt running through his little brain, his grip tighter than ever before. When the funny looking lightning dude with the raccoon and a living tree came into battle, he wouldn't know. All he knew right now is- something was coming. He would tell Shuri but judging by the way she was typing away faster than before, she already knew. James' legs practically hopped by themselves as adrenaline pumped through his body. With the war outside and the thing inside and Shuri furiously typing away, he didn't know where to look. He felt his hands shaking by themselves as he glanced up at Shuri, almost whimpering. Shuri didn't return the gaze. She couldn't. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't. They heard another loud noise, this one actually extremely close. They both looked back, Shuri taking advantage of this situation to assess the boy. He needed to move. Fast.

"James," she said quickly. "I need you to go down to and past the forest, ok? You need to make sure that either T'Challa, Mama, or Papa know what's happening up here, ok? You got that?" James nodded. "Ok, now go!"

Shuri continued on her typing as James took off, glancing back at the scene and the doors behind her. He remembered this building extremely well, finding his way to the stairs almost immediately. He held onto the handle as he made his way down, his eyes glued to the in front of him as he remembered the proper way to go down stairs. "One, two" he mumbled quietly under his breath counting the steps. "One," he lowered a foot. "Two" he lowered the other. "One," he lowered a foot. "Two" he lowered the other. He continued that way, eventually finding himself on the ground floor. Exiting the stairwell, he took a moment to gather in his surroundings. This floor was the exact opposite from the one he had just left and it made him question whether he made it the correct floor in the first place. He hesitantly continued before finding a bright green exit sign. Smiling in relief, he semi-jogged in that direction. Despite delay, he found the exit and struggling to push the door open, he took off yet again, albeit slower than before. This was the most exercise the four year old had ever received in a single day and he knew for a fact that once nap time rolled around, he wasn't hesitating to pass out.

The first thing he encountered was the forest. He wished his quest stopped here, but unfortunately, it didn't. Shuri had told him to reach the fields. James didn't think he could make it that far but he had to try. If his mama and papa could fight for this long than he could run a little bit longer. Making his way through the forestry however, something caught his eye. A glint. Kind of like metal. He pondered the thing for a second. His mission was technically make sure the message gets to mama, papa, or T'Challa. If he told a warrior to tell them, that was his mission accomplished, wasn't it? His tired brain didn't argue with the logic, turning around and barely running in the direction he saw the glint come from. Soon enough, he came across... a scene. Vision laid on the floor, with less color than James had ever seen on him. The raccoon was next to Rhodey in his big metal outfit, and so was the other man behind him, this time in a huge red and yellowish suit. His mama stood next to his papa, who sat on the floor. They were the first to acknowledge his presence, not only advantaged in being able to hear better than the others but also advantaged in the fact that they knew his footsteps. Their was no light in their eyes when they saw him however, and James knew what this meant.

Pain. Sadness.

All emotions he was familiar with in his parents. But their was one he had yet to discover- Grief.

He stepped foward and he noticed all became aware of his presence but no one cared to question it. It took one glance at Vision's corpse for him to realize that he never wanted to see that again. His little quest was forgotten and a new pain found itself into James' chest. He stepped around Vision's limp legs and went up to hug his father. Natasha found herself on her knees, hugging them both closely.

James felt terrible. He could barely process what had happened. One minute he's with Shuri operating on Vision and the next he sees him laying outside... with a hole in his head. It made him sick.

"Buddy," Steve eventually said, trying to get his attention. "It's ok, ok? Vision was a robot. Ok, buddy? Everything's fine." That only confused James further.

How could he be a robot? _Sure_ , he sometimes was red but he could turn human. Was the human thing fake?

Did it matter?

Vision was gone. No more funny jokes. No more funny voice. James found himself tugging on his frail necklace. He looked down at it, fiddling with one of the beads.

Was it only Vision? James apparently wasn't the only one who was thinking that because once Thor found his way through the woods he found himself next to Bruce. The rabbit seem safe and so was Tony's friend.

"We should begin doing headcounts, my friends. Thanos is our enemy no longer, we must personally honor those who have fallen." Natasha turned at the god's voice, nimbly standing up. She picked up James, allowing Steve to stand up. "There's a child?" Thor asked bewildered. Natasha nodded, propping James on her hip. Steve picked up her batons, clumsily flipping them into their storage state. The two switched, Natasha securing the batons into place on her belt.

"I see Vision"

"Didn't make it" Steve finished shaking his head. Thor nodded, turning to Rocket. "Rabbit?" Rocket sighed.

"Groot didn't make it."

"Sam didn't either" James' head rose at that. Sam? Uncle Sammy? Natasha made a cut throat gesture as Steve turned around. Glaring at Rhodey, Natasha took her place in between the group and her boys, placing a reassuring hand on James' back.

"Let's go to the house" Natasha spoke finally, turning back to the three men and the raccoon. " _We_ can regroup _later._ Check the fields, do a headcount. Report back to T'Challa. If you can't find him, General Okoye is your best guess as to where he is. Make sure to wrap this up. We need some more allies, not enemies. See if anyone can reach Tony or Pepper. I'll be sure to call Clint and the gang." Steve had already started leaving, swaying James back and forth between steps, leaving Natasha behind. She glanced at the two before returning her gaze to the four once they were out of earshot. "I'm sorry, guys. We really messed this one up. Nobody could have seen this coming. Right now, like Thor said, we need to honor our losses." Everybody mumbled in agreement, the raccoon climbing up onto Thor's shoulder as they disbanded. Before Natasha could fully leave, however, Bruce caught up to her.

"Hey" she sighed, turning around. _Now or never, Nat._

"Hi, Bruce"

"I just- I thought you couldn't have-"

"I thought I couldn't. Turns out the Red Room was either more faulty or more sneaky than I had originally thought."

"Oh"

"You thought I lied?"

"No, I-"

"It's ok, Bruce. I get it. You never really trusted me. That's on me. My first impression wasn't exactly ideal and neither is this. I just-" she sighed. "I did-at one point, have feelings for you. You know?"

"I did too"

"Then why did you run, Bruce?"

"Why did you use me?" Natasha raised an eyebrow in question. "Don't do that! You know what I'm talking about! Sokovia! The abyss! Even the lullaby!"

"We trained together for that, Bruce"

"Stop! Ok? Stop it! Stop lying! For once in your life, be honest with me!" That stung.

"Bruce-" she tried; "No! Ok?! Thor did it! Or tried it! He knew the lullaby! Explain to me why he knew it!" Natasha gave him a blank stare.

"I don't know-"

"Bring up Lullaby Protocol" The machine behind them whirred back to life, producing a small hologram of Stark Towers. It was a secluded area. Natasha knew it well. The tape started with Fury rambling. Than came the words she knew all too well.

"Get close to him. Watch him. Don't let the bastard leave your sight." Natasha sighed at the recording, accepting defeat. "Here's the works." Hologram Natasha took the manila folder from her ex-boss' hands.

"Lullaby Protocol?" She asked smugly.

"Yes. No one must know outside of us two and anyone you may potentially trust. But remember,"

"I know, I know. Take trust with a grain of salt because even sugar looks like salt. I got it ok?" The video ended.

"Who else knew?"

"Nobody."

"Were you with Steve when you took this... this _mission_?"

"No. We were partners and nothing more"

"Are you sure about that? Because judging by-"

"You abandoned me!"

"You betrayed me!"

"I fail to see how one can betray a person who's never had their trust in the first place!"

"I guess you're right!" Bruce left, leaving the suit in it's place. Natasha considered returning it but decided against it, heading in her own path to the house.

When she finally made it, she found Steve with James on his cot. James was tucked in and Steve was singing him to sleep. She crept up behind them, standing near the doorway as she always did. She listened to Steve's soft tone as he sang to their son, singing along in her head.

"And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me today" Natasha felt herself calm, slinking past the door and plopping down like a rag doll at Steve's feet. She rested her head on the bed, humming along to the next verse. "Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now don't you cry"

James snuck a tired glance at his mother once he heard the familiar voice, smiling when he realized he was correct. He closed his eyes once more, scooting closer to where his mama sat, placing a small hand on her own, almost as if to reassure himself that she was really there. Despite how much she felt like crying, she opted instead to finish the lullaby. "Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an irish lullaby." They continued the lullaby all the way to the end with no interruptions other than the occasional pause and gaze. As they went to stand, James stirred, sleepily looking up at his parents.

"Mama?"

"Yes, _Долгожданная_?"

"Is this the beginning yet?"

"The beginning of what?"

"Of the end mama"

"Of _what_ , James?

"The end of time. Is this the beginning?" Natasha looked up at Steve who was the one standing at the doorway this time.

"Umm.. Yeah. Yeah, it is"

"Good" he hmphed, pulling the blanket up closer. He rubbed his Binky softly between his two fingers shutting his eyes for the final time. He mumbled his last "good night" and even though it was barely noon, Natasha tucked him in and placed a small kiss on his forehead, murmuring a soft "Good night" before leaving the room.

* * *

 **The song Steve was singing is called "Irish Lullaby" by Emmet Cahill.**


	4. Rock-A-Bye Baby

**This is a small drabble about a rainy day with our three favorites.**

 **Thanks for your follows, favorites, and reviews! They're really appreciated!**

 **Since this is a drabble, I will be answering or responding to questions/requests/general reviews. I'm going to start doing this every chapter (if I get any reviews) or I might save it for drabbles. It'll depend on timing. Anyways,**

 **Enjoy!**

 **[Warning: this may have some triggers for loss, or traumatic events including repressed memories and slight dealings with loss at a young age.]**

 **(Also, slight spoilers for Infinity War meaning mentions of possible deaths and spoiler about who wins)**

* * *

 **After Wakanda battle (2020-ish)**

It was a terrible idea, and James had suffered the consequences. Terribly miscalculated and the losses were unintentional. But in the end, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

"UNO!" Natasha and James both equally threw their cards on the table in exasperation.

"I don't want to play anymore" the five year old complained. "Can we try a new game?"

"Wait, hold on there, you sore losers. Why can't we play one more round?"

"Because you're cheating"

"Mama can deal"

"You'll both cheat"

"I can't cheat, not when it comes to you, _Долгожданная."_ James gave his mom a dubious look. "I swear"

"Can we just play another game?" Steve chuckled at the remark.

"How's about we watch a movie instead?"

"A movie?"

"Your pick" James definitely latched onto that bait.

"My pick" he pondered. It only took a second before the kid zoomed past his parents, leaving no time for his parents to even react. They looked at each other questioningly before Natasha slyly stood up, leaning over towards him. She planted a small kiss on the base of his cheek before whispering into his ear, "last one to the couch has to clean up." She backed away slowly, cocking an eyebrow at him, a familiar smirk dancing on her lips. Before Steve could even blink, she sprinted off, towards the living room, just as quickly as James had just moments ago. By the time Steve even reached the entrance to the cozy living space, Natasha was already laying on the couch, sprawled out and facing him in a welcoming fashion.

"That was not fair play," he started, walking over. Natasha's smirk grew wider as she sat up. Steve rounded the couch, plopping down next to her.

"This house is a mess"

"Well I'm not cleaning it"

" _You_ lost"

"I was never _in_ in the first place!"

"Ok!" James hopped onto his father's lap, causing a subsequential groan from him. "All done, papa" James looked down at the remote before outstretching his arms, hitting play and the pirating warnings showing up on the average screen. James handed the remote to his mom before pulling her into their little cuddle session. She reached off the side, grabbing one of the many blankets that were thrown around and wrapped them all up under it, letting herself warm up to her boys, cuddling up against them. The three watched the movie in utter silence, finding more comfort in their presences than the need to speak. Steve had his arms wrapped around his two loves, James wrapping his own around his father's arm. During distressful parts of the film, James found himself rubbing his thumb softly on his papa's arm, sometimes even toying with his necklace. At some point, his binky had come out, and feeling the soft, furry texture of the baby blanket helped him calm. The moments on the farm triggered it most, the need to feel something; something constant. James couldn't remember much of the first years of his life, as they were getting pretty hazy. He did however remember the people. If there was one thing James was good at, it would be remembering faces.

Ever since that chaos, however, James hadn't seen many of them. They hadn't visited anybody and nobody visited them; not since then. The memories were there for James, yet so far away; so blurry. A mental block he wished he could bypass. He wished he knew the reason for it, for not seeing everybody and suddenly living with his mama and his papa. He had wanted to be with them but not under these circumstances. Not at this length. He was confused about it all. He shuffled upwards, pushing himself further into his father's arms, binky in hand as his lips latched onto his thumb. James wanted to know, but he was glad he didn't. He just wondered why whoever took them from him did so in the first place. Was it the bad things Uncle Bucky had done? Did it consume them? Was it the universe getting back at him for him robbing himself of his one-armed legacy? In any case, James had told him to take it off. It was bad to toy with destiny.

He forgets who taught him that. It was probably momma, but it's not like he could remember. It was frustrating. Something he wanted to tell desperately to his father or even maybe his mother. They hadn't asked, however. And James felt too _little_ to muster up the courage to start the conversation by himself. How could he even start a conversation about something that he could barely remember? Instead of that, he tried to act like the kid he was. Sometimes it came normally, but it was still there, nagging at him. He didn't even have to look far to get sad. It was evident in what he didn't have. What he lost. He hated that he didn't know how much he lost. He didn't even know who's alive, if he's honest with himself. Another question for his parents, yet he sat there, in the comfort of his father's arms, eyes drooping.

 _Another day_ , he promised himself. _Another day_.

Both Steve and Natasha could see through their little boy's façade. If they were honest with themselves, however, they had no idea what to do with it. Half of the world lost their families that day, and it was hard for everyone. The Earth had been chaos. A complete mess. They had no choice but to take it day by day. James asked for the others less each day. It was marked on their minds, however, the day James stopped asking. August 4, 2019. Just a few days after the clean up finished. Something seemed to click in him. To snap. It wasn't good, and they could tell that even if they had no idea what to do with that information. James' wallowing became smiles in an instant. They were no longer rare, in fact they were almost always there. But both could see through it, yet neither knew how to approach him. The matter in which they'd call each other out for their bluff would definitely not work on their son, and for some reason, he didn't seem to want to talk about it. And they didn't want to force him. They would mention it, beat around the subject, but never touch it, fearing for his mental and emotional state. Truth be told, emotional manipulator or not, not even Natasha knew how to deal with this in a proper manner. She often freaked, and thinking that Steve was better at talking about feelings, left him alone with James.

Needless to say, there were some issues that they needed to iron out. But Steve also felt that they'd have more than enough time to do that. After all, judging by both of the redheads' light snore, they wouldn't be doing anything, anytime soon. He adjusted himself, propping Natasha's head against himself in a way that would be more comfortable to her, whilst simultaneously shuffling to lean back so James could be comfortable. He tried putting a leg up but it ended very uncomfortably so he ended up just setting it down. Holding his two dearest, he said a silent prayer. One his mother had taught him.

 _May God give you, for every storm a rainbow_

He glanced outside, the prayer reminding him of their current situation-and yes, the rainy day was still going strong.

 _For every tear,_

He gazed at James, tracing down his cheek.

 _A smile,_

He traced the edge of Natasha's lips. He truly wished them all the smiles of the world.

 _For every care, a promise,_

He snuggled up closer to them, adjusting the blanket.

 _And a blessing in each trial._

His hand rested unconsciously on Natasha's stomach, and the fact almost reminded him of those tender moments with her extremely tiny belly. Then the extremely tiny baby. Who was now a huge baby, barely fitting in his lap anymore.

 _For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share,_

 _Please,_ he begged. At least one. Everyone needs a friend. Not only him but especially his two hot-headed redheads. As for him... well, he didn't have a good track record with friends.

 _For every sigh, a sweet song,_

He couldn't wait to hear Natasha's singing. Especially in Russian. Those lullabies she sang to James were beautiful. Especially in her voice.

 _And an answer for each prayer._

"An answer for each prayer," it was the only part he spoke aloud, repeating it before continuing on to say his own small prayer. Once done, he reached over for the remote, turning off the television. After placing it back, he positioned himself on the couch for the short nap that would soon come. It would take longer for him, not having the uneventful movie as motivation. Soon enough, however, he found himself dozing off, glad to at least have the one thing he thought he would never get to experience the most in his entire life.

 _A_ _family_.

* * *

 **First off, I'd like to give an immense thanks to anybody and everybody who's favorited/followed the story. That means a lot to me and I take it as a huge compliment, so thank you for that. Thatnk you for all of your reviews as well. I love receiving feedback, and seeing an email pop up saying "review" always warms my heart. I love hearing from you guys.**

 **The first review ever was from a guest. They wanted more and they suggested a fanfiction of James in infinity war. I took some inspiration from this comment to make the last chapter. Leading on from that, I just realized said person said "fanfiction" which made me question.. Would you guys like to see a more in depth version of this story? Maybe first person and present tense, and way more story oriented than just a collection of one-shots? Let me know. I'd love to hear what you mean or what you want!**

 **The next review was from supesfan18. First off, thank you for taking the time to read and suggest some ideas! Secondly, I have hinted at what you want to see but I am working on it. I would definitely love to document the journey of Cap and Widow's journey to get together after the vision leading up to James' birth, and have been thinking on continuing the plot I started in the first chapter. That brings me to my second question. Would you like to see a separate fanfiction with these events told in a more story-like format or would you like it continued in this manner, as just a collection?**

 **The following review was from SapphiRubyCrys. I'd like to thank you for reading my story and I'm glad you find it an interesting take! I've had the idea on the back of my head for a while and only decided to start working on it about a month or two ago. I'm glad it's gotten this positive reception, and especially glad that you find it interesting! Feel free to comment and/or suggest any things you'd like to see in future stories or plotlines! I'd love to hear more from you!**

 **The next one was from hufflepuff gal 4520. Hi! Here's one more one-shot! :)**

 **A guest left a question asking why James said mama and papa. I suppose the reason would be that for russian children, they use the terms мама(mama), папа(papa), or тятя (Tyatya, another name for father). In the Irish culture(Steve's pa** **rents were Irish immigrants), most children use english words for their fathers, such as Dad, Daddy, and Da. Irish(Gaelic) speaking children call their fathers by Dadaí, while for mothers it is Mamaí. But again most Irish children use english words for their parents, calling them Mam, Mom, Mammy, Ma, Mommy, and occasionally, Mother. However, Steve's father died when he was young (his mother would die later on in his teen years), meaning that he would vaguely remember how he addressed his father, if at all. American children refer to their parents as mom, mommy, mother, ma, mama, dad, daddy, father, pop, and/or papa.**

 **With this information, I kind of just chose what I could see them using. For example, with daddy having such a negative connotation attached to it, I doubt they'd use it (they both may be old but they're not ignorant when it comes to the internet-mainly Natasha). One concurrent use I'd seen was the use of mama and papa, and mommy and daddy. Eliminating daddy from the equation because of previous explanations, I was left with the options mama, papa, mommy, and their shortened versions. Mommy and papa sounded off, so I decided they'd probably go with mama and papa when they first taught James what to call them. Also, the names are much easier for children to grasp since they are just the same syllable repeated twice. Not to be confused with the spanish versions of the use either(mamá and papá).**

 **Hufflepuff gal 4520 came back with this next review, and I wanted to say no problem! There's another update for you to enjoy! I hope you like it and I'm glad to see that you're sticking with this story of sorts. I'd love to hear more from you going foward and can't wait to see what you think of this one. Also, what's your opinion on the previous questions? Look foward to hearing it!**

 **Last review I got was from a guest named Marie. I'm glad you like it! I was really going for that aspect of it, and I'm glad it came across as that! It makes me feel accomplished as a writer. Also, I know! It breaks my heart for James to suffer through all this! Sometimes the most shielded end up the most hurt and it seems that Steve and Natasha learned this(hopefully), with this experience. I hope they can work through it however! Their bond is unbreakable. While this is considered as more, I still am working on some more projects for this little mini series that might just become a huge series... :p Can't wait to hear more from you!**

 **With that being said, I'd like to thank once more everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed! I appreciate every single one of it! If you want to say something or chat/whatever in a more private matter, my private messaging is always open! I hope to hear from you guys soon and again, thanks for taking time out of your days to read my story!**


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